


Bunny has a Bad Day

by sumhowe_sailing



Series: Snapshots of Domesticity [7]
Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumhowe_sailing/pseuds/sumhowe_sailing
Summary: Bunny's having a bad day--Raffles make it worse...and then makes it better.





	Bunny has a Bad Day

“What is my dear rabbit doing in here?”

“The dishes, A.J.,” Bunny grumbled. “Perhaps you’d care to help with them?”

He didn’t mean to snap at Raffles, but it was done before he could stop himself. He’d been having a miserable day. He’d woken up sore thanks to their latest exploits, which made him clumsy enough to stub a toe—then his writing had simply come out absolute drivel all morning—and when he’d finally given up in disgust and gone to make himself a cup of tea, he’d found not a single passably clean cup in the cottage.

“I had heard that rabbits can bite,” Raffles mused, “but I’ve never known you to have such a temper.”

“Well if you’re not going to help, you could at least leave me to work in peace.”

“Or perhaps instead of attacking those poor spoons so viciously, you might tell me what has you so upset.”

“I’m fine,” Bunny exclaimed, too loudly to be convincing.

“What an actor you’d have made, my dear.”

Bunny threw the ladle he’d just been scrubbing back into the soapy water and whirled around to glare at Raffles. He winced as a few drops of the dirty water splashed up and hit his cheek. And Raffles, damn him, was simply leaning in the doorway, looking smugly amused.

“Either help me or leave me alone.”

“Well, if you’re going to be like _that_ ,” Raffles shrugged. Then, to Bunny’s fury (though not to his surprise), Raffles turned and walked out of the kitchen. Bunny was glad he’d dropped the ladle, because otherwise he would have thrown it after Raffles just now.

“Bastard,” he muttered, before turning back to his task. He muttered incoherently for a while, scrubbing furiously at the inoffensive dishes, stacking them haphazardly in a pile to be dried and put away. Before long, though, his anger had exhausted itself. Left alone, it probably would have simmered for hours yet. But A.J. had worked him up to such a boiling rage that it couldn’t sustain itself.  And just as he settled firmly into a calm monotony of suds and sponge work, he was startled by hands creeping round his waist and A.J.’s voice in his ear.

“Can you ever forgive me, oh Bunny mine?”

“You’ll have to ask nicer than that.”

Raffles stepped closer, so Bunny’s back was now pressed against his chest. He trailed a line of kisses from just below Bunny’s ear down to his collar bone. Bunny sighed contentedly and relaxed into the embrace.

“Forgive me, darling?”

He might try to hold a grudge just a little bit longer, but Raffles knew _exactly_ how to persuade him. Raffles evidently took his silence as lingering resistance; he chose to intensify his apology by ghosting kisses across the nape of his neck and back up the other side, sighing softly against the sensitive skin as he concluded.

“Help me dry these,” Bunny managed to say, “and then I’ll show how thoroughly forgiven you are.”


End file.
